


I would've said yes anyway.

by malixa



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Proposals, fluff and a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7822366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malixa/pseuds/malixa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey wants to explain it but he doesn’t know how. The words had slipped so easily from Ian’s lips, with no preamble whatsoever. He’s so jealous of Ian’s ability to do that. ‘Marry me’. How the fuck does anyone say something like that so easily?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I would've said yes anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> So I posted a very similar story to this several years ago. Since then my English has improved massively so I'm re-posting this fic after some pretty heavy editing. Leave a comment or kudos if you liked it!

“No,” Mickey’s voice makes the cold room feel warm in comparison. The hurt is obvious on Ian’s face; so painfully present that Mickey has to look away.

“Why?” Ian asks.

Mickey wants to explain it but he doesn’t know how. The words had slipped so easily from Ian’s lips, with no preamble whatsoever. He’s so jealous of Ian’s ability to do that. ‘Marry me’. How the fuck does anyone say something like that so easily?

Lip walks in, smiling at his phone and pocketing it before realizing there are other people in the room. The small smile on his face gradually fades when he realizes he’s walked into a tense situation. He looks doubtfully from Ian to Mickey and back to Ian again; wanting to be positive that fists weren’t going flying the minute he leaves the room. They both stare back at him, silently asking him to leave. Mickey raises his eyebrows at Lip but he still doesn’t budge, just keeps staring at the two of them.

“Lover’s spat?”

“Fuck off,” Mickey says.

Lip just continues staring.

“Seriously, go away Lip,” Mickey growls. “Skedaddle, piss off, get lost, bon voyage, do you need me to continue or will you _get the fuck out_?”

A moment passes before Lip relents, giving a long-suffering sigh and closing the door behind him. “Don’t fucking break anything!” He shouts through the door.

“Why is he always such a nosy jackass,” Mickey grumbles and sits down at the middle of Ian’s bed, leaning his back to the wall.

“I don’t know. Why are you ignoring my question?” Ian asks and sits down with his back to the shorter wall, placing his feet over Mickey’s legs.

Mickey tugs on a loose thread in the seam of Ian’s jeans and tries to ignore the heavy gaze directed at him. Ian waits patiently for a minute before he breaks the silence, “Would it be such a bad idea though? I mean, it has plenty advantages? We would have shared expenses, which equals splitting the cost of groceries and other things we spend money on. Tax breaks, better insurance for Yev. I could actually be a father to Yev, instead of a step-something.” Ian says in a wrung out voice. “He was so sad the other day, after the fight he had with that other kid – Camden? I couldn’t even come pick him up alone because I’m not his dad, and I know that getting married won’t change that but legally it would.”

Mickey doesn’t answer, just keeps his head down because he knows if he as much as sneaks a glance and meet Ian’s eyes it would break his façade. It’s hard though; he can feel Ian’s eyes on him, glaring at him.

“Is it me?” Ian asks in a doubtful voice.

“No, Ian no.” Mickey pleads. “It’s not you. I just-” he breaks off, placing a hand on Ian’s thigh. He wants to say more, he wants to explain but Ian doesn’t give him a chance.

“You don’t want to,” Ian says, even more insecure now. “You don’t want to,” he repeats. “You could’ve just said so,”

“Ian, just not now okay?”

“Are you serious? Are we still fucking on about this? You’ve been out for what, Seven years? Does it matter if anyone else knows?” Ian demands. When Mickey doesn’t answer he pulls his legs off Mickey’s and stands up, absolutely fuming. Mickey reaches for Ian’s hand, taking it in his own, trying to calm Ian down some.

“Just…don’t.” Ian says, snatching his hand back and walks out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

“I was trying to find a good time to ask you,” Mickey says, his voice wavering. Ian stops halfway down the hallway, his back tensing. “I wanted to do it here, just after Christmas or something, I don’t know. I wanted it to be something…fuck I don’t know, special. That was why I tried not to fucking mess it up right now. And I already have, but I wanted it to be something more than just something I said you. I wanted it to just be…something more.” Ian turns around to look at Mickey; who’s biting his lip, his hands twitching awkwardly by his sides. He's leaning into the doorway a little, looking uncomfortable.

“I didn’t buy a ring though, cause you have huge ass hands and I didn’t know which one would fit,”

Ian lets out a little breathless sound. “So every time I brought it up you got that ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look because of this? I thought that you were…god; I don’t even know what I was thinking. I know you don’t like talking about stuff like this but you could have just said.”

“I know, I should have.”

“I don’t need something special, Mickey. You could’ve popped the question over a box of pizza and I would have said yes.”

Mickey does nothing to stop his smile as it spread across his face. Ian crosses the distance between them and pulls Mickey into his arms, holding him close. He rests his chin on top of Mickey’s head and tightens his arms around hi, breathing in the scent of their shampoo and cigarettes.

“I didn’t want to fuck up,” Mickey mumbles, lips brushing against Ian’s shirt.

“You wouldn’t have,” Ian assures him. “And even If you did I would have said yes anyway.”

Ian pulls them apart just far enough that he can see Mickey’s face. He tilts his head a little and swoops down, pressing his lips against Mickey’s, once, then twice. Their foreheads come together and Ian kisses him again, deep and hard.

“The answer is yes by the way.” Mickey snorts and smiles, fond and easy.

“Yeah, I got that, thanks.”

“Love you,” Ian says, kissing the top of Mickey’s cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too. Even when you’re being a dense drama queen. Debbie already guessed months ago, y’know.”

“Months ago?”

“Yeah, it’s been in the works for a wile don't you think?”

Ian smiles, a warm fluttery feeling spreading in his chest as Mickey rests his head against his collarbone. Yeah, this has been a long time coming.


End file.
